


in here somewhere

by orphan_account



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Rough Sex, while mostly ignoring canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 13:39:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: ‘I love you,’ she whispered into his ear as he slept, tracing the words into his forearm with feather-light touches.





	in here somewhere

It’s a warm summer’s afternoon. The sun hangs low over the horizon, painting the skies a soft orange-yellow. Korra’s walking home from a gruelling solo training session, limbs aching and sticky all over, when she hears someone calling out her name.

‘Kaya!’

Well, her other ‘name’. Korra spins and sees May running towards her with a big smile, gripping a basket filled with lush mangoes the same colour as the sky.

‘Working out again, hmm?’ May pokes Korra’s bicep and says, ‘So tough! If you keep it up, you’ll be bigger than most of the men in the village!’ 

May is a farmer’s wife. She works at the marketplace, selling a rich variety of bright-coloured fruit in the afternoons. The girl is friendly and sweet, and at times almost sickly so, as she doesn’t seem to have a ‘filter’. Korra thought she was bad, but May is borderline unbearable at times. 

Korra just laughs, wipes the sweat from her brow. ‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’

May giggles and hums. They walk leisurely as the sun dips lower and the sky grows darker. They talk about the weather, the upcoming autumn and winter seasons, fruit, the recent fight at the marketplace (Korra thankfully didn’t have to intervene). It’s comfortable and calming, a nice change of pace from her earlier workout. 

The fruit-seller reaches out to twist a lock of Korra’s hair between her long, elegant fingers as they walk back into the village. ‘Your hair is so thick and strong,’ she coos. ‘You must tell me what you do to it.’

Korra doesn’t do anything to her hair besides wash and comb it, but before she can respond, May leans over and her expression shifts from somewhat-harmless to mischievous and sly. Korra resists the urge to back away — whenever May looks at her like that, a lecture of sorts is coming.

‘How have you been? You and — your man?’ 

Her eyebrows wriggle suggestively. Korra shrugs, feeling uncomfortable. ‘We’re okay,’ she says, which is true, but even if they were having problems, May would be the last person in the world to know. Growing annoyed, Korra picks up a ripe mangofruit and passes it between her hands, avoiding May’s gaze.

‘You know Sara is pregnant now?’ May says. 

‘Oh, really?’ says Korra politely.

‘Mmm-hmm,’ May replies, nodding fervently. ‘Her fifth.’

Korra can’t help it — she makes a face. ‘Oh, spirits,’ she grimaces, but May just laughs.

‘Oh, don’t be like that!’ the other woman giggles. ‘Children are a gift, a true blessing. I love my babies more than anything,’ she says a little dreamily.

It’s funny, because May is only a few years younger than Korra, and a lot more naive. She doesn’t know much about the world or the wars and hasn’t faced true danger or felt true fear. She was born and raised in the same damn village, got married to a farmer’s boy when she was sixteen, had a few kids, and has spent every day of her life sticking to the same routine. But she talks with such a sense of fulfilment that Korra can’t help but envy, as though genuinely content with the simplicity of it all, as though she wouldn’t want it any other way.

‘You’re still young, you know,’ May’s voice, a tad more shy this time, pierces Korra’s thoughts.

The Avatar looks up sharply to see May looking at her earnestly. Korra feels anger rising up in her at the woman’s presumptuousness. She has no idea who Korra is, or what she’s been through, or what she feels. Korra bites back a sharp retort and gives May a sickly-sweet smile of her own. 

‘It was nice seeing you, May,’ she tells her. ‘I’ll see you around.’

She turns on her heel and marches home. 

 

—x—

 

Korra stomps into the house, kicks her shoes off, and goes to have a bath. He’s not home yet, which is good, because if he was he would be able to tell she was in a bad mood and would try and talk about it. But Korra’s not in the mood to talk. She’s in the mood to punch something (or someone), but she just finished a workout and feels weak with exhaustion. So she sits in the bathtub and waits.

After a few minutes, most of the anger has dissipated, being replaced with a heavy feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. She knows it’s because May brought up a topic Korra’s been struggling with for the past few months.

She turned twenty-five in the winter. It was a modest affair. They went for a long walk in the woods, they sparred, had a simple dinner at home, talked and laughed (Korra did most of both) and then they fucked. Nice and slow, just the way they liked it in the winter-time, when their bodies couldn’t get enough of each other’s warmth. He placed her legs on his shoulders as he drove into her, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks, panting heavily with each thrust. 

‘Good girl,’ he murmured above her.

And all Korra could do was look up at him, her body on fire, mouth falling open in astonishment and adoration of this man, this beautiful perfect man who loved her more than she deserved, and the beautiful life they’d built together. He was reaching his peak, she could tell, and she threw her head back and moaned as he came deep inside of her.

‘I love you,’ she’d whispered into his ear later that night as he slept. She traced the words into his forearm with feather-light touches. 

He never mentioned wanting to have a child. But she was worried he did, and that he didn’t bring it up out of fear of offending or angering her, which was sweet but would still make him resent her, sooner or later, for not giving him what he wanted. It was normal, wasn’t it, for a man to want a family of his own? The life they had was already so domestic. If Korra really focused, she could hear the soft footsteps and giggles of a child. Her own child.

She wasn’t sure if she’d be a good mother. She’d gotten on well with Ikki and Meelo, but they weren’t hers to raise and look after full-time. Korra didn’t think she was anywhere near responsible enough for that. She’d just played with them every now and then, told jokes and used bending tricks to make them laugh until they got too annoying (which was frequently), upon which she’d return them to Pema with an apologetic smile. Pema, who looked constantly exhausted, whose life revolved around her four children and their lives. Pema, who was patient and loving and devoted and endlessly giving — everything Korra was not.

Korra couldn’t make those kinds of sacrifices. She was the Avatar. Her duty and devotion was to the world first and foremost. Aang had managed to have a family in his lifetime, but at what cost? She didn’t want her children resenting her for not being around enough. She didn’t want children who felt inadequate because of her expectations. She’d rather have no children than children she would ultimately fail, because if Korra was guaranteed to do anything it was fuck it all up. She was scared to have children who refused to understand what it was like, what she went through, how much she sacrificed —

Her stomach twists uncomfortably as she sits in the bathtub, remembering the whirlwind of her thoughts that night and how her own mind had effectively traumatised her. When he’d woken up the next morning, he could tell something was off by the way she was frowning at the ceiling with her lips pursed. But she’d brushed him off, ignoring his questions and the soft touch of his hand on her thigh, and slipped out of bed to cry silently in the bathtub, which is where she sits now, stressing once more.

You’re still young, you know. May’s voice echoes through her brain. She’d looked at Korra with pity in her eyes, which makes the Avatar wonder if there’s something wrong with her, if she’s less-than. When she was a child, all she ever dreamed about was becoming the Avatar. Not getting married and having children and living quietly. But so much in her life has changed since then. Isn’t it normal that the way she feels about this would change, too? 

Still, May girl’s words make her feel as though there’s a clock ticking somewhere, ominously reminding Korra of the fact that she has to make up her mind sooner or later. About what, she’s not entirely sure. Korra hears the front door open and shut quietly, interrupting her thoughts.

‘Korra?’ calls Noatak.

She hesitates, but then sighs quietly. ‘I’m in the bath,’ she replies, then closes her eyes and leans her head against the edge of the bathtub.

She hears him move around in the kitchen, and a few minutes later he knocks on the bathroom door. Korra wants to tell him to leave her alone, but the thought of it makes her guilty. Instead, she grunts, and he opens the door.

They’ve been together for too long and seen each other naked far too many times for Korra to feel shy or embarrassed. But she still flushes a little bit when his eyes soften at the sight of her pouting in the tub, one long leg crossed over the other.

‘Hey,’ she says.

He doesn’t say anything, but gives her a soft smile before walking inside and closing the door behind him. He kneels down on the floor next to the tub, reaching out to stroke her hair. She leans into his touch and softly kisses his palm.

‘How was your day?’ he asks.

Korra sighs again. ‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ she says, even though she must. ‘Better now you’re here,’ she adds.

He smiles at that and leans in to kiss her wet forehead, before rising. 

‘I bought some dinner on the way home,’ he says before he leaves to get changed, and his use of the word home is so natural and fitting it makes her heart ache. 

She has to talk to him about this, she knows. But she’s just so scared. Scared he’ll admit how he really feels (disappointed, resentful, frustrated, impatient). But she’s also scared he’ll tell her that having a child with her is the last thing in the world he wants, that he’ll confirm all of her worst fears about herself. She’s scared he’ll ask how he could ever deserve to have something as pure as a child of his own after all he’s done in the past and the sins committed by who he used to be. And Korra knows that man is long gone, dead and buried, so far away from the man she shares her life with now. But she’s scared he doesn’t feel the same way, that he blames himself and hates himself after all these years.

She has to talk to him, she knows. And she’ll feel better if she does. But she’s just so, so scared.

So Korra stays in the bathtub and stares at the ceiling for a long, long time, even as the water grows cold and her eyesight blurry from the tears.

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry


End file.
